What Is Pretty? Poem by Tabitha Christie

She said, “I’m not Pretty”
I don’t have perfect hair
I don’t have straight teeth
I don’t have perfect vision
I don’t have a skinny body
I don’t have the height and
I don’t have tan skin
“I’m not pretty” she told me

The magazine told me,
I have to have perfect hair and get highlights
I have to have ruler straight teeth that are white as snow
I have to have eyes of an eagle
I have to be underweight
I have to be tall enough to touch the clouds, and
I have to look like a Brazilian baked sun

The magazine told me if and only if I have all these then,
I am pretty
She said “I am going to be pretty”

She told me,
I dye my hair more and more blonde each week
I got braces to get pin straight teeth and professional whitening to get pearly whites
I got blue colored contacts to correct my vision and change my eye color
I started smoking cigarettes and doing drugs so I would be skinny
I wear high heels everyday so I will be tall as the models
I go tanning everyday and I look orange, its great

She had me look at the magazine and pointed to what it said and she told me “I am pretty”

When I look at her, I don’t see pretty, I see damage
I see hair that is falling out that looks like chemotherapy
I see holes in your pockets from your dentist bills
I see colored contacts from China that made you go blind
I see your raspy voice, black lungs, and your brittle ribs showing from your drug addiction.
I see your broken ankle from too high of heels, and
I see the cancer on your skin from being baked in a sun oven

So to me I don’t see “Pretty”
I see an early death awaiting to happen all because of a magazine.